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<title>Jon/Martin Library AU One Shot by JennyFromTheVoid</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27363712">Jon/Martin Library AU One Shot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyFromTheVoid/pseuds/JennyFromTheVoid'>JennyFromTheVoid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Awkward Flirting, M/M, One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:21:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>981</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27363712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyFromTheVoid/pseuds/JennyFromTheVoid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin is a graduate student working part time at the university library, Jon is a bedraggled professor with his nose buried in dusty textbooks. You know what's up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jon/Martin Library AU One Shot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I'm not attesting to any kind of quality here. Just using this to stretch the ole fic writin' muscles. </p><p>Enjoy I guess!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Martin shivered when Elias told him to go shelve the basement level stacks. </p><p>He loved working the front desk, watching all the students in the library’s café, chatting over their laptops, munching on snacks from the vending machine, greeting them with a cheerful smile when they came to ask him something. But down there, roaming those dusty, lonely shelves… Well, it was far from how he’d wanted to spend his Friday evening. </p><p>“Don’t argue with me Blackwood,” Elias grumbled.</p><p>“I didn’t say anything!”</p><p>“You were going to. Now go get the cart ready, I want you down there and back in twenty minutes.”</p><p>Martin sighed and did as he was told. Sasha, who was working front desk with him that night, rolled her eyes once the head librarian had gone.</p><p>“What did you do to make him hate you so much?”</p><p>“Dunno,” Martin shrugged. He had such a positive attitude, sometimes it turned people away.</p><p>“Well, don’t get too miffed about it. I saw you-know-who head down there earlier.”</p><p>Martin turned to hide his nervousness.</p><p>“Oh really?”</p><p>There was a man who came to the library nearly every night, usually leaving just minutes before close (which was midnight to accommodate the students’ odd hours). His name was Jonathan. Martin could never remember his full name. His University ID indicated he was a professor, though it was impossible to tell what subject he taught. One day he was checking out a book on medieval medicine, next it was a biography on some Russian cave diver. Mostly though, he brought his own books. Stacks and stacks of them, new ones each time. It was easy to believe he had read more than any man living.</p><p>“Well, you’d better get going before Elias barks at you again.”</p><p>Martin shook himself from his thoughts.</p><p>“Right. I’m off then.”</p><p>“Try not to get murdered down there,” Sasha teased.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Jonathan—whatever his last name was—had a shock of grey hair on the right side, which made it particularly difficult to guess how old he was. </p><p>Martin peered through a bookshelf he was reorganizing so he could spy without drawing attention to himself. Today he wasn’t reading anything, just writing furiously in a beat up leather bound notebook. He wore a green sweater and those wire rimmed glasses that slid down his hooked nose every so often. </p><p>A heavy volume slipped off the shelf and hit the floor. The professor looked up. Martin coughed and waved through the shelf. He just glanced at him and went back to his writing. Martin relaxed. Why was it so hard for him to just go up and say hello?</p><p>The job was almost done, though it had taken him quite a bit longer than Elias had said it should. Martin was shelving some Chinese poetry several feet away from Jonathan’s desk. He tried not to look. They had shared enough awkward glances for one night.</p><p>What was it that made him so attractive? There was a seriousness about him, but that seemed to follow all academics. Maybe he was just into older guys. Was he actually older though? Christ, he couldn’t tell. He decided to steal a glance, slowly turning his head, pretending he was looking at the small stack of books left on the cart.</p><p>Martin jumped. The weary looking professor was glaring right at him.</p><p>“Oh—uh… hello.”</p><p>The man's face went pale and as he raised a shaking hand, Martin realized he wasn’t staring at him, but behind him.</p><p>Martin whipped around to see an enormous black spider dangling from the low ceiling.</p><p>“K-kill it please,” the professor muttered. </p><p>Martin almost laughed. He hadn’t assumed a man who wore elbow pads was any kind of tough guy, but was he really so shaken by a spider?</p><p>“Oh, um. Okay.”</p><p>He brought up a particularly bulky encyclopedia from the cart and took a swing. He missed, but tore through the web, sending the spider to the floor. It scuttled towards Jonathan, who drew up his legs, making a little squeaking sound.</p><p>SQUASH.</p><p>Martin crushed the spider beneath his encyclopedia. </p><p>The older man relaxed, clearing his throat.</p><p>“Thank you. Apologies, I just… I’m not particularly fond of spiders.”</p><p>He had nearly the poshest accent Martin had ever heard. He wondered briefly if it might be fake.</p><p>“You’re welcome then.”</p><p>The thirty? Twenty-five? The something-year-old straightened his collar, trying to regain his composure. He glanced up at Martin briefly.</p><p>“I’ve seen you around here before, haven’t I? Who are you again?”</p><p>“I’m a librarian—well, really I’m a graduate student, but ever since my fellowship fell through, I’ve been working here to make ends meet—I mean, it’s not that I don’t like working here, I know plenty of people who’d kill for a job like this, believe me, it’s just—”</p><p>“Yes, yes,” Jonathan interrupted, politely annoyed. “I meant your name.”</p><p>Martin blushed.</p><p>“Sorry bout that. Um—it’s Martin.”</p><p>“Pleased to meet you then, Martin. I’m—”</p><p>“Jonathan.”</p><p>“How did you—”</p><p>“Your library card,” Martin explained.</p><p>“Oh, yes. Right, well. It's Jon.” Jon stood. “I guess I’d best be going now Martin. Thanks again.”</p><p>He placed his things in his satchell and threw it over his shoulder.</p><p>“Hold on,” Martin called, in a sudden burst of confidence. “I know this is quite forward of me, but could I—”</p><p>“Have my number?” Jon finished in a droll voice.</p><p>“Follow you on Goodreads?”</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>“I just,” Martin turned redder. “Everything you read looks so interesting and I’m a fan of books myself, obviously. I was thinking we could give each other suggestions.”</p><p>Jon blinked.</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>They exchanged usernames and Jon headed out of the stacks. Martin did as well, until he realized Jon was headed the same direction he was, so in an effort to avoid yet another awkward interaction, he waited another five minutes before running off to tell Sasha what happened.</p>
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